Static Conversation
by mayze
Summary: Atobe attempts to start a conversation. TezukaAtobe because there isn't enough of them around. xP


**Note: **Their ages have been bumped up a bit, they're university students now. So I guess this is a slighly AU fic… Comments and constructive criticism will be very much welcome. (And does anyone remember the days-of-the-week trading card thingie? Atobe's Sunday card showed him fishing and there was someone in the background. I refuse to believe that's Atobe's father, and so there. )

And… I wrote this at 2.30 in the morning. I've edited it, but there might be something that slipped through the gaps.

They passed each other often enough. It was difficult not to, considering their time tables were fairly similar and they lived in the same dorm. Still, despite the fact that they'd known each other since junior high, despite the fact that they'd had such a huge impact on each other's lives, and despite the intense feelings the other was able to bring out, they hardly ever spoke to each other.  
  
It wasn't from the lack of trying on Atobe's part, of that he was certain. After all, he reasoned, he was the one constantly approaching Tezuka, wasn't he?  
  
"I seem to have misplaced my pen. Could I borrow yours for a moment?"  
  
"Ahh." would be his monosyllabic reward.  
  
How did one, even someone as great as Atobe Keigo, continue a conversation with that? Where it anyone else, Oshitari for example, he would have replied with a snarky "Oh? Cartier ran out of stock I suppose?" To which Atobe would have replied with a lofty "I'm afraid the boutique doesn't open until morning, Oshitari, and I left my spare at the villa the last time the team stayed over during the summer vacation."  
  
Or Jiroh. He could have handled the perky, over energetic fangir- boying of the blonde, of that there was absolutely no question. And as for any other common peon… Well, Atobe Keigo was too great to have casual conversations with them, but were he bored enough he could easily awe them with his numerous accomplishments. But Tezuka… How in the world did one break through that infernal aura surrounding him that could render someone as magnificent as Atobe himself speechless?  
  
As much as he wanted to play a proper match against Tezuka again, he had not desire to go through grueling two hour matches just to have a conversation. Oh no. Not at all.  
  
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Tezuka wondered what went on in Atobe's head. He knew there was an extremely acute mind under all that posing, so why did Atobe only come to him for the most menial of errands? Just yesterday, for example, he'd come over to borrow a pen. The previous day he's asked if the bath water was hot, and the day before that, he'd asked if Tezuka wanted a glass of water, despite Tezuka always keeping a well filled bottle of water on his desk.  
  
It was really incomprehensible, how someone like Atobe Keigo could be so unobservant. It puzzled him greatly, and he sometimes wondered how to behave around Atobe. He kept remembering the fire and passion he'd seen back in junior high. The fact that Atobe had gotten into the same highly competitive course in the same prestigious university meant he had a very fine brain indeed. Further more, the both of them were topping their course, a task that could not be accomplished by pure hard work without genius. Tezuka simple could not reconcile the Atobe he had known in junior high with the Atobe he saw now.  
  
A puzzling conundrum indeed.  
  
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Atobe was walking up the stairs when he heard it.  
  
"Atobe."  
  
He nearly dropped the cup of Earl Grey he was holding. Tezubot initiating a conversation? Miracles did happen.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I believe my pen is still with you. I'm in need of it now; could I trouble you to return it to me?"  
  
Oh yes. That pen which he hadn't really needed anyway. Had he really forgotten to return it? Good lord what was the world coming to? Atobe Keigo, borrowing? And not returning what he'd borrowed?  
  
"Ah. It's in my room… Yes yes I'll return it to you immediately."  
  
A pause.  
  
"Come up with me." Tezuka nodded. He followed the shorter teen up to his room. Both had singles, though Tezuka was sure it was not entirely due to luck on Atobe's part. He'd probably complained about sleeping and breathing the same air as those plebeians… And money certainly entitled one to many privileges, single dorm rooms being one of them.  
  
Atobe entered his room, and Tezuka followed. He set his tea down with a delicate clink – That is your mother's favourite tea set, Keigo-bochama, please don't break it, he vaguely heard his loyal butler reminding him – and rooted around his desk drawers.  
  
"It's here somewhere…" He mumbled.  
  
"Ahh."  
  
Atobe shot an irritated glance his way. "Why can't you talk to me properly? For once?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I was being anything less then civil."  
  
Atobe gritted his teeth. "That," he shot out, "Was not what I meant. Why can't you talk to me? This seriously annoys me. I know you are capable of stringing words together to form sentences, and I am of the sincere and studied belief that your sentences will not be as banal or boring as most other people's. So why haven't we ever had a proper conversation since we entered university?"  
  
Tezuka simply looked at Atobe with the same, familiar stoic look. No, wait, was that a glint of amusement Atobe saw in his eyes?  
  
"Throwing hissy fits certainly messes up your famed Insight, doesn't it?" Tezuka replied mildly. "I simply don't believe in wasting words."  
  
Atobe didn't know if he wanted to laugh or get even more annoyed.  
  
"Hissy… fits…?"  
  
"Ahh. There's my pen, I'll be returning to my room now. Do you require anything else of me?" Tezuka almost smiled. Oh, Atobe with his prima donna ways was amusing indeed.  
  
"No," said prima donna finally bit out, "Good night."  
  
"Atobe."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Seeing how we have a three day weekend this week, would you like to go fishing this Sunday?"


End file.
